He Who Was No More
by victorsfall
Summary: "So what was he? Who was he? He was a spectator in his own body, forced to watch his mind switch between Hei and Li. Did he begin as Li and have a contractor's mind thrust upon him, forcing his mind to make room and share it's occupancy, or did he begin as Hei and lie to others as Li until the lie became a permanent residence of his mind? No answer. He had no answer."


The screaming inside of his head was a constant ringing, always in his ears, always on his mind. There was no clearing of this fog and he damn well knew so, he just truly wished that it would disappear and leave him alone. If only he could be a contractor. If only he could be a human. He was nothing that fit into this world and his mind consistently reminded him of such a thing. No one knew of his constant struggle of sharing his mind. He was constantly switching between Li the Human and Hei the Contractor and he didn't even know who he was anymore. He had no name to cling to, no memories before Heaven's War and losing Bai. He could remember her as a child, could remember the stars that he once loved and now hated, but there was nothing there for him anymore. No name. No parents. He couldn't even tell you Bai's true name anymore. He just didn't know.

"You are a contractor in a human's skin."

"You are a human in a contractor's guise."

So what was he? Who was he? He was a spectator in his own body, forced to watch his mind switch between Hei and Li. Did he begin as Li and have a contractor's mind thrust upon him, forcing his mind to make room and share it's occupancy, or did he begin as Hei and lie to others as Li until the lie became a permanent residence of his mind? No answer. He had no answer. He wanted to know. Wanted to quit pretending. But how was he to know who he was when he had no control over who he was to say he was?

Yin. She knew who he was. He was sure of it, because whenever he was with her, he was not "Hei" and he was not "Li" he simply was. He was he who is and is not. But Yin was no more and the man who simply was could no longer be and so here he was, locked away, forced to watch and watch and wait and wait as his body moved on its own under the command of another. And he would watch as Hei took lives and Li built love and he who was could not tell if he was saddened by it or if he simply was yet again. Perhaps his name held more power than he thought. Perhaps if he had a name, he would know if he could feel. Maybe he could share responsibilities with Hei and Li.

People said that life was short, and that he should enjoy it, but how was he expected to enjoy something he did not have any longer? Life was taken from him the moment that Bai left him. He had been able to discover it again briefly and it had almost felt like he was able to bring himself back into being, but it wasn't meant to be, for he was sentenced to hide away behind Li and Hei, away from Yin, away from Misaki, away from Amber. He had no more and he was no more. He would simply sit in a corner and he would watch the images, read what they read, listen to what they listened to. He read it differently. When they saw a telescope, they would see a symbol of hope, but when he saw a telescope, he only stared at a ghost of his agony and pain. He was their pain, he now knew. To keep Hei sane and healthy, to keep Li happy and oblivious, he who was no more must carry their pain and burdens, for it was too great for them to carry. But what did it matter if a man without a name carried it for them? Carried around the weight of a thousand dead and a tenfold injured? It didn't, he decided.

"Hei."

"Li."

"I am nothing." He whispered within the quiet confines of the mind he was forced to share. There was no physical sensation of his stomach churning in anguish, there was no rush of blood out of his face, there was only an odd calm that washed over him. Being nothing was better than not being and as he accepted this, he who was no more, was suddenly he who was nothing. He was more now. He could be more. He would never know who he was or who he is, but he could be he who was nothing that carried the pain of Hei and Li. The comfort it gave him was enough to brush off the harsh words, enough to not cause the pit of anguish to form in his stomach, to not form the empty hole in his heart of not being. "I am nothing." He repeated quietly.

He who was no more.

He who was nothing.


End file.
